Perfect 100
by JayRain
Summary: Each Friday the Dragon Age Fanfiction Writers Group posts a challenge: a drabble of exactly 100 words about that week's theme. Various characters and pairings.
1. Heat

Bull's eye lingers on Dorian. Dorian is a beautiful, beautiful man who knows it, and Bull imagines seeing him in his full glory. Whenever Dorian catches him looking, though, his cheeks redden and he turns away. Bull thinks maybe something could be there, until he sees Dorian's cheeks getting even redder whenever Trevelyan is around. Until he sees Dorian ruly smile when Trevelyan looks at him. Until he feels the heat whenever Dorian walks by and knows it's because of Trevelyan. Until Dorian expends every bit of fire magic he possesses to save Trevelyan, and insists he can keep going.


	2. Nightfall

It's getting dark. Aquinea calls up a faint wisp of light that follows her through the house, casting shadows wherever she goes. She finds Dorian on the balcony. "Custom doesn't dictate how long one is to watch a pyre burn," he says in greeting, staring out at the pink and orange streaks that give way to deep blue and black.

"You'll get no complaint from me, darling." She tentatively rubs his back, the way she did when he was a child, before she forgot how to be a mother. He stiffens at first, then remembers how to be a son.


	3. A Stiff Drink

He poured himself another stiff drink. He was losing track of how much he'd had, but he didn't feel drunk yet, and he needed to if he hoped to process just what he'd read. Alick Trevelyan sipped this one, letting it burn down his throat and settle in his stomach. _Inquisitor Theodane Oliver Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste._

Theodane didn't know how to rule; he barely knew how to fight. How could he be leading this Inquisition? And worst of all, why hadn't the proclamation come from Theodane himself?

 _Because Alick hadn't known how to be Theo's father._

He poured another.


	4. The Thrill of the Chase

There used to be no point chasing after anything; now my options are wide open. That includes Dorian. Maker's balls I should know better. Intellectually, I do. The last thing I need to be worrying about right now is how it would feel to be holding him, kissing him, running my hand through his glossy hair: but it's the first thing I think about, and at the least convenient times. I can't stop wandering Skyhold, hoping to run into him. I think now I know what's meant by the thrill of the chase.

I think I could love this man.


	5. Interrupted

When the spell is cast all the broken pieces he's gathered will become one whole. He will have her back. He even found her face. It was a risk, given her connections, but he needs her back more than he needs air.

Quentin finishes setting the tableau. He looks at his books one last time. _We'll be together again soon_ , he promises. She doesn't answer. Not yet. He trembles.

The doors swing open. Shouts. Shadows rounding the corner.

Hawke steps into the light. She takes one look at the tableau and stares at him.

"What the _fuck_ have you done?"


	6. Making Up

"I said I was sorry."

Dorian shivered on the riverbank. "I thought guiding that forsaken druffalo through the canyon and past an active Fade rift would be the end of us. Then it decided to knock me into that pile of _kaffas_!"

Theo sat next to him. "We did gain some influence in this region."

Dorian stared at him. "A farmer gave us his undying thanks for rescuing his recalcitrant ruminant."

"Come on, Dor, how can I make it up to you?"

Dorian channeled a small force spell and Theo pitched forward into the chilly water. "That's a good start."


	7. Beneath, the City

Beneath, the city sleeps. Oghren doesn't know. Up here on the surface, the Topsiders sleep when gets dark and wake when it's light. He can't sleep when it's dark, because he's used to the dark. He can't sleep when it's light, because what the call the sun is a blinding bastard. Beneath, the city of Orzammar goes on. Beneath, the ancient dwarven cities lie haunted.

Above, Oghren is haunted by the sky. Above, Oghren's eyes adjust to day and to night. Above, Oghren is shocked by rain and scared of thunder. Above, Oghren doesn't belong. He didn't belong beneath, either.


	8. Second Best

"Your father was a mage. Your _twin sister_ was a mage. You know what lengths this family went to just to stay safe, and you'd betray all that?" Leandra stares at Carver like she doesn't recognize him.

"As soon as Father realized I wasn't a mage he hardly bothered with me," Carver says. "Dori wouldn't bring me on this mission, so fuck her. Bethany…" His twin is nothing but ash long blown away. "I'm sick of being second best, and if that's betrayal, then…"

He saunters out the door. He bumps into Dori; he keeps walking and doesn't look back.


	9. Just Tell Me

"Was it that jade skull I was ogling at the curio shop in Val Royeaux?"

Theo didn't look up. "No."

Dorian shoved the blankets off and sprawled languidly on the bed. "That tooled leather journal that I hinted would be a perfect spellbook."

"No, and now you're trying to trick me into telling you."

"You can't hint that you got me a present and then not tell me!"

Finally Theo looked up and laughed. "Fine, if you're going to pout like that. All of the above, and only after I'm done with you."

Dorian grinned. "There. Was that so hard?"


	10. Lost

"Impossible."

"Very possible."

"You can't possibly have-"

"Oh, but I do!" Josephine laid out her cards.

"You play a mean game, Ruffles."

She batted her eyelashes. "I have no spite when I play. The game is for fun." Then she leaned across the table and smiled slowly, catlike, at him. "Admit it, Varric."

He raised an eyebrow. "Best two out of three?"

"It's far past midnight." She leaned on her elbows. "And you know how I am without enough sleep."

"Ruffles, you thrive on exhaustion."

"Varric…"

He sighed and dropped his cards. "Fine. I lost. Don't get used to it."


	11. Questionable Priorities

Not all her days are spent in the chapel, deep in prayer, or comforting the wounded in the infirmary. Some days Giselle wanders the gardens, and other days, she goes to the library to immerse herself in study.

She studies the mages, rescued from the jaws of Tevinter.

She studies the Tevinter: his easy magical prowess, his teasing smile, his smooth voice.

She studies the Inquisitor, growing infatuated with the Tevinter.

Trevelyan is young, and he is malleable. He needs firm guidance, but must also believe that he is the one making his decisions.

She has a letter to write.


	12. Here We Go Again

Fenris stares at the misshapen body, still smoking, and then spits on it.

"Don't you think that's a bit disrespectful?" Anders glares at Fenris.

Fenris lifts his eyes to stare at Anders. "It became a _fucking_ abomination. It gave up its rights to sympathy when it turned to blood magic and demons."

" _It_ was a person, who felt like they had _no_ other choice! Do you know what it's like-"

"Don't start that with me, _mage_. You'll lose that argument yet again."

Anders starts it anyway.

Hawke sighs. "Here we go again."

Varric holds his hand out. "You owe me."


End file.
